What Are Friends For?
by LaLopez1981
Summary: Tony is woken one night by what he thinks is a burglar trying to break into his parents' house. It turns out, it's just his friend, Loki, looking for a friend. Avengers High School AU. Tumblr prompt.


**A/N: Another tumblr prompt! This one is a thank you for my dear follower, generationloki, who encouraged some of her followers to follow me and, thus, my numbers increased. Such a sweetheart. :)**

**She asked for: "hurt!Loki; Loki falling asleep in Tony's lap with Tony combing his fingers through Loki's hair, fluff." it's got all those elements, I think, plus, its High School AU. So I hope she, and you all enjoy!**

**XOXO, LaLa**

**P.S. Reminder straight fluff (sans smut) is still relatively new territory for me. Also, this is my first attempt at HS AU FrostIron. enjoy!**

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Tony awoke with a start, sitting up on his bed, ears pricked, listening for another thump like the one that stirred him from sleep in the first place. It was silent for a moment in the dark room before he heard more sounds that told him someone was walking around downstairs. Slowly, because his bed was ancient and creaked like an old settling house, Tony pulled back the covers tangled between his legs and shuffled off the full-sized mattress, taking the baseball bat from its hidden spot under his bed.

He wondered if it was just Jarvis, poking around in the kitchen making tea and biscuits, or whatever it was that English people ate. But the family butler was usually more careful about not making any noise. Howard wouldn't have kept him around so long if he wasn't. Tony froze halfway to his bedroom door at another louder thump, followed by a loud hiss. Definitely not Jarvis. The teenager crept quietly to his door, the baseball bat dragging along the carpet, and pulled the door open just enough so he could slip out into the darkened hall.

A faint light was on in the kitchen, he could see as he peeked over the railing. Walking on the balls of his bare feet, Tony moved to the staircase, still straining to listen, and descending the steps, grateful they were carpeted and did not creak and groan with his weight. There was movement still happening—were they making a freaking meal?—and he paused again at what sounded like ice shifting. Someone wouldn't break into a house to steal ice, would they? He shrugged, bringing the bat up, ready to swing, as he neared the entry. He peeked around the door jamb and spotted the figure standing over the sink under the single light over the sink, his back to Tony, hidden under a dark hooded sweater.

With a deep gulp of air, Tony let out a yell and barged into the kitchen like a mad man. The hooded man let out a shriek and skittered toward the small kitchen table at the other end of the room.

"Who are you?! What are you doing here?!"

"Stop! Stop! Stark! It's me! It's Loki!" Pale hands flung out, trying to ward him off, and Tony jerked to a halt.

"Loki?" He dropped the bat to his side. "What the hell are you doing here? How'd you get past the alarm?"

Loki sighed, his face still hidden under his hood, and moved to drop his tall, thin form into one of the chairs. "Please. I learned that password years ago."

"Master Tony, is everything all right in there?" Jarvis' smooth and proper voice came from the shadows of the hall. Tony casually wandered to the entrance he had burst through only moments ago, calmer now that he knew it was just his friend.

"Yeah, Jarv, it's cool. It's just Loki."

"Do you require anything, sir?"

"No, man, it's okay," he said, waving the blond man away. "You can go back to bed."

"Aha. Then…we will discuss this in the morning?"

Tony rolled his brown eyes. "Yeah, yeah, sure." As Jarvis headed back to his part of the house, Tony turned and walked back to the table, still carrying his bat. "Thanks a lot. You're lucky my parents are out of town. But unless I promise to help polish the silver or some shit like that, Jarvis will still tell them."

Because he was up now, and found himself a little on the hungry side, Tony wandered away again as he spoke to Loki, to peruse the contents of the refrigerator.

"You gonna tell me why you broke into my house at…?" He shot a glance over his shoulder toward the microwave. "Jesus. 12:30? Really?" He scoffed at his friend and stuck his head back into the refrigerator, opening and closing drawers and digging through different plastic containers. "Glad it's not a school night. Not that it matters to _you_," he muttered under his breath.

Loki didn't respond right away. When he moved, it was to bring his elbows up to the table. He sighed heavily into his hand. "I didn't know where else to go," he answered softly.

Tony pulled out a packet of deli meats, ripped it open, yanked a slice of turkey from it, and shoved it into his mouth. "Why? What happened? Did your dad find out you skipped school again this week?" He sat, chuckling at his own question.

Again, Loki didn't immediately answer. Tony took out a few more pieces, munching happily, before looking up at the seemingly moody teen. And made a face.

"Why are you still wearing that thing? What are you, _The Crow_? Take it off, for—" Tony reached out to snag the hood off of Loki's head, not noticing the way he flinched, and immediately went quiet.

Loki hissed out a harsh, "Don't," as the hood covering his face was pulled off, and he went still as a statue, for a few long moments. His hand, wrapped around a paper towel sheet full of ice, slowly lowered. He barely looked in Tony's direction, but the damage had been done. What he had wanted to keep hidden had been seen.

Tony plopped noisily back into his seat. "Loki…what…who did that to you?"

Loki shifted his body, his bruised cheek and swollen lips out of Tony's sight now, and fingered the edges of the paper towel. "Who else?" he mumbled.

Tony's jaw dropped. He knew things at home weren't great for Loki; they hadn't been since Loki's mother died the year before, in the middle of their junior year. He and his father weren't extremely close, though Loki was an only child; and the stress of his mother's prolonged illness, and resulting death, clearly hadn't brought father and son any closer. Tony knew losing his mom had been hard on Loki. She was his closest confidant, next to Tony himself. And she took the news of her son coming out incredibly well—especially compared to his father, who had refused to speak to Loki for weeks. And Tony could see Loki falling deeper and deeper into an increasingly dark place right before his eyes. He'd started skipping school, but somehow still managed to maintain his 4.0 GPA. He hadn't worn any other color but black since his mother's funeral; a bleak contrast from his wardrobe of dark golds and greens and the occasional colored jean he had worn before. And his pot intake had increased as well. He didn't think Tony knew that.

Tony had been at a loss. He wanted to help his friend, but his friend did not want his help. So he acted like he didn't notice when Loki would disappear for a day or two, or show up at school disheveled with bloodshot eyes. He pretended it didn't bother him the way Loki would pick fights with teachers and other students, just to have an outlet for his pent up anger. Tony hadn't voiced it, but he was afraid the tension at the Laufeyson household was headed for a break like this at some point.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

Loki gnawed on his bottom lip. "I'm fine," he responded, equally soft.

Tony stared at his friend, swallowing back the lump in his throat. His eyes stung, for some weird reason, and he blinked his eyes as fast as he could, until the feeling went away. "Does it…hurt?"

The paler boy shrugged, like it was no big deal, but the corner of the paper towel he held was quickly and methodically being torn into tiny pieces. His heart heavy in his chest, Tony leaned over to lay a comforting hand on Loki's arm. His hand had barely touched the black sleeve before Loki shot up to his feet and stormed away, leaving the ice melting on the table. Torn about what to do first, Tony sat, staring dumbly at the table. He saw Loki collapse into a ball in the corner of the sofa in the darkened living room and decided to start with the melting ice. He gathered it up and carried it to the sink, dumping it with a loud clang, before moving efficiently through the kitchen.

Moments later, he joined Loki in the living room, flicking on a lamp to softly illuminate the area. "Here," he said a little more firmly than he intended.

Loki lifted his head, pushing back his jet black hair that had fallen over his face, and frowned at the bulky kitchen towel Tony was offering to him. "What is that?"

"Ice. In a Ziploc bag. Wrapped in a towel. So it's not too cold on your skin." Tony waited for Loki to take it, but all the pale teen did was stare at it. With an exasperated sigh, Tony pulled Loki's hand away from his face and laid the towel against his cheek, ignoring the sharp hiss and swear word tossed at him. "Quit your bitching."

Loki just scowled at him and settled back into a ball against the couch again.

Tony sat next to him, facing him, crossing his arms, and watched. He watched Loki sit there and pout, wincing at the ice against his bruised skin, and waited to hear the story. But, as usual, Loki wasn't very forthcoming. "You gonna tell me what happened or not?"

Loki's green eyes flicked up for a half second before focusing on a loose thread on the leg of his black skinny jeans. "What is there to tell? I yelled. He yelled. I yelled back. He hit me. End of story."

Tony gnawed on the inside of his cheek. He and Howard didn't always get along, but the worst his father ever did was ignore him or call him an idiot. He had never laid a hand on him. Even when he was drunk. He knew that kind of thing happened between fathers and sons; he just didn't personally know anyone it happened to. "Has…that happened before?" He wasn't sure why his voice wasn't so strong at the moment.

Loki's lips pinched into a tighter pout, like he was fighting it, but couldn't stop it from forming. The thin lips pressed together several times and his jaw worked, making Tony wonder if he was trying to speak. Ultimately, he just shook his head.

Tony opened his mouth to ask another question, but went completely still when a tear rolled down Loki's cheek and the paler boy quickly sat up to swipe it away, and turned his face from Tony again. "Loki…"

"This is so stupid. I'm not even sure why I'm crying." His voice cracked, and he sniffled before burrowing into his hoodie.

"'Cause you're hurt, Loki," he answered with a soft scoff. "How many times did he hit you?" The raven-haired teen turned his head, bloodshot green eyes narrowing a little at Tony.

"What?"

He smiled a little and shrugged almost sheepishly. "I'm a science nerd, Loki. You think I've never been bullied before? It takes more than one hit to get a bruise like that."

Those green eyes boring into him filled again. "Not if he does it with the nearest heavy object."

Embarrassment made Tony's entire body break out in a fever and he instinctively reached out to lay a hand on Loki's shoulder. He jerked away, turning from Tony. But Tony wasn't deterred, scooting himself closer. "Loki, I-I'm sorry. I didn't know—I didn't…think."

Loki's head angled toward him, tears threatening to spill, and finally, he gave in. Tony froze again when he shifted and suddenly Loki was practically wrapped around him, the ice making a soft thump as it fell to the carpet. And he was crying. Hard. So hard, his slim body shook with it. Tony could feel Loki's tears seeping through the thin t-shirt he had worn to bed, and his fingers clenched into it at his side and just above his heart. Finally, Tony lowered his arms to rest around the body attached to him, rubbing his hands over Loki's back in soothing, comforting circles.

It felt a little weird, having someone who wasn't female this close to him, practically sitting in his lap—his boxer-clad lap. Frankly, he was kind of missing a couple of nicely rounded mounds of flesh against his chest. Then again, Pepper wasn't very well-endowed in that area anyway. Shaking his head of the thought, remembering his friend, one of his closest, was in pain, emotional and physical, he went back to comforting him. He didn't even realize his fingers had found their way into Loki's hair.

After a few moments, Loki's sobs quieted and his fingers in Tony's shirt loosened. He pulled back just as quickly as he had he sought comfort in Tony's arms, and curled into himself again. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Tony's eyes darted off to the side then back. "Why? I've seen you cry before."

Loki laughed, harder than he meant to, it seemed, and continued to wipe at his eyes and nose. "I know that; I was apologizing for slobbering all over you."

Tony looked down at his shirt, making a face at the wet spots. "Oh. Ew. Well. What are friends for, if not to slobber all over them, huh?"

Loki chuckled again, a little more uncomfortably, Tony thought. "Don't pretend you weren't wishing I had a big pair of tits pressing into you, Stark," he said, grinning through his watery eyes and splotchy cheeks.

Tony looked positively scandalized that Loki had read his mind. "Ha! Loki. I'm shocked."

"Why?" he asked through a short laugh and sniffles. "Do you think just because I prefer broad shoulders and the feeling of facial hair scratching my skin that I don't know what you prefer?"

His nose scrunched but he giggled. "No. I dunno. Whatever. It's nice to see you smiling and laughing." Loki only shrugged his shoulders. "You want to crash here tonight? You can stay in the guest room."

Loki winced. "What about Jarvis?"

Tony shrugged and grinned. "Make breakfast tomorrow. Give him the morning off." Loki chuckled softly.

"Are you sure it's not a problem? I can go home…"

"Loki," Tony started, laying a friendly hand on his shoulder, "it's way past midnight. If I let you leave now, Jarvis would probably skin me alive for being a rude host. Let me just make sure it's all set up."

Loki watched him jump up from the sofa, inexplicably embarrassed now for bothering Tony with his problems. He was his closest friend, and the only one who didn't jump down his throat about ditching school and smoking more pot than was probably healthy at his age. But it was better than dealing with his homophobic father who drank himself into a stupor every night and stared at a picture of his mother. Tonight, Loki just lost his patience with the man and said things he shouldn't have. He had provoked the man. Still…he didn't have to hit him with that vase, he thought rubbing at his sore jaw. Loki was lucky he didn't get any bleeding cuts or scratches. Only a few more months remained before he would be able to leave. Where? Who knew?

"Loki?"

He glanced up, toward the hallway near the staircase, where Tony stood waiting for him. He rose, slowly because his back was killing him from being slammed against the wall—he didn't tell Tony that part, did he?—and followed his friend into the guest room. A double-sized bed was waiting for him, a single overhead light illuminating the room.

"Knock yourself out," Tony muttered with a vague gesture toward the bed. "Jarv gets up pretty early so I guess I can come and wake you up."

"You don't have to," he murmured. Something that felt an awful lot like guilt started to creep over him, making his gut twist painfully and he started to nibble on his thumbnail; a relatively new nervous habit he had picked up. "I can sneak out before he wakes."

Tony scoffed, air puffing through his lips, making his dark wavy hair flop over his forehead. "You could spit-shine the room, Loke. Jarvis would still know someone slept here. It's like he memorizes where every little thing is. Dude is way anal—not _your_ kind of anal, but…" He laughed softly when Loki gave him a dirty look. "Don't worry about it, okay? We can make breakfast together." He grinned widely and smacked a friendly hand to Loki's back, making the paler boy wince slightly.

"If you're sure…" he said tightly, biting back a painful groan.

"Jeez, Laufeyson. All you're doing is sleeping. You're not gonna sacrifice a virgin in here are ya?"

Loki's green eyes slid Tony's way. "Are you offering?"

Tony's handsome face folded into a dark frown. "Hey, I'm not a virgin!" He growled as Loki's lips predictably curved into a teasing smirk. "You're such an asshole."

He shrugged lazily. "You're not the first who's told me so today."

Simmering down immediately, Tony gave Loki another light shove. "Go on. Get some sleep. You look like shit," he muttered with a grin so Loki knew he was kidding and stepped out of the room.

"Tony…" He drew up short and raised his brows at Loki. He rarely called him anything but Stark, though they had known each other since the seventh grade. To hear his first name seemed almost…too intimate. Loki fidgeted with his hands, hidden by the sleeves. "I don't know how to…you're very kind to offer…what I mean to say is—"

"Hey." Loki paused and flicked weary eyes to Tony. He shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "What are friends for?"

Loki smiled softly with a short nod, and Tony wished him a good night, bouncing out of the room with all the energy of an excited squirrel, and up the steps to his own bedroom. Loki watched him until he disappeared, then quietly closed the door, flicked off the light and moved to the bed, lit by the orange street lamp just outside the thinly veiled window. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed, on top of the covers, careful not to lay on the bruised side of his face.

It didn't take long for him to fall into a deep sleep. But his mind was working, thinking, wishing before he did. He wondered what his life would have been like had it not been his mother who died prematurely. He wondered what his life would be like when he left his father behind and started to live life on his own terms. And he wondered about Tony. What was he going to do without his best friend? Did he have any idea how Loki felt about him? Not likely. No one ever knew what was going on in Loki's mind. There were times his own thoughts took him by surprise.

When he had come to Tony's house tonight, he was seeking refuge, yes. But what he really wanted was to curl up in those tanned arms and feel them wrap around him, to hear his heart beat against his ear. To feel the scratch and prickle of the goatee Tony was trying so hard to grow against his own smooth skin when he laid his lips on his.

_Stop, Loki._

Tony didn't feel that way about Loki. And, if he were honest with himself—which he wasn't—Loki didn't want to ruin what they already had. Because Tony had been right. What were friends for?


End file.
